Black magicians. It had been roughly two hundred years since I'd last heard anything of them—bastards who had holed themselves up in some corner of the world without so much as showing the tip of their noses.
If black magicians have truly begun to rise again, it seems the time has come to exterminate them.
Still, I've come deep into the slums to investigate. I'd heard from Kunrote that black magicians seemed to be involved, but I'd only know if it were true by seeing for myself.
If the streets up until now had been somewhat shabby with a gloomy atmosphere, the deeper one went into the slums, the more the scenery went beyond shabbiness to become something close to half-ruined.
It went without saying that all manner of filth stained the walls, and occasionally I saw people living in houses without roofs and with half-collapsed walls.
A man leaning against a wall since broad daylight, too soaked in cheap liquor to come to his senses; a beggar simply leaning against a wall and giggling despite not being drunk; a child hugging a bowl as large as their own face, staring blankly at the empty sky. And the large rats scurrying between them.
I didn't particularly want to look at this for long, so I'd best finish up quickly and head back.
"Master, what are black magicians?"
Black magicians.
The term refers to those who interfere with souls through impure methods, deforming them or exploiting their power.
"What did I say a soul was?"
"Uh... The source of a person's mind or will...? I think that's what you said."
"Black magicians are those who use sorcery to corrupt that soul."
And to corrupt a soul means to corrupt a person's mind.
In other words, black magic specializes in incitement, or... mass hypnosis and brainwashing, that sort of thing.
That is, to draw a conclusion.
"They're perverts."
Perverts who enjoy toying with other people's minds as they please.
Of course, the techniques of mere mortals aren't that omnipotent, and most are small fry who can only barely guide thoughts bit by bit or make someone slightly more inclined to believe what they're told, but...
Kunrote said children were disappearing. And children generally don't possess strong egos or wills capable of resisting black magic.
Moreover, their souls haven't accumulated much, so they're generally quite pure, making them susceptible to black magic.
They're the best targets for black magicians to aim for. Even if their level isn't that high, they can produce sufficiently powerful effects.
I recalled the first time I had seen those called black magicians.
It was a bastard who had brainwashed hundreds of people with black magic, treating them like tools for his own desires.
He had toyed with people's souls so freely that his level had nearly reached the realm of the Transcendent.
Of course, he was annihilated without even leaving a corpse, let alone any record that such a person had existed, but it was also what made me decide to eradicate black magicians someday.
They're like cockroaches—possessing incomparably tenacious vitality, endlessly popping up no matter how many times you squash them—so I'd half given up, but...
They say if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes back. Not all of those who learned black magic were insane from the start, but from the moment they learned it, they were all madmen.
As I walked across the slums toward the coast deep in such thoughts, I sensed a small presence behind me. It seemed to have been following us for a while, without revealing itself.
"Master, behind us..."
"I know."
Judging by the footsteps, it's probably that brat who tried to pickpocket us in the market earlier. That kid likely knows more about what goes on in the slums than Kunrote, so if I ask, I should be able to learn something.
I deliberately took out my coin purse and made it jingle. The surrounding beggars reacted to the sound and began looking this way, but the presence behind me moved a step faster.
The small sound of feet pattering across the dirt drew closer...
"Got you."
The kid ended up caught by the scruff of the neck. A smaller stature than I'd expected. The hair was roughly cut around the shoulders, and covered in grime and dust to the point that it was hard to tell what color it was.
When I lifted the kid up high, they flailed like a kitten picked up by the scruff by its mother, looking a bit pitiful.
"Give me that. Money, I have to take the money."
Yet, as if being caught was no concern at all, rather than trying to escape, the kid reached for the coin purse I'd been jingling.
Hmm. Not in their right mind at a glance.
"If I don't take the money, something terrible will happen."
"What terrible thing?"
"I don't know, but I have to take the money."
The cognitive impairment was certain as well. This was a symptom of being caught in something like hypnosis—half-dreaming.
I focused slightly, shifting my vision to observe the kid's soul. Then, the distinct traces of black magic planted in the soul came into view.
To express it visually, it was as if pitch-black, boiling tar was heavily smeared over a pure white sphere made of freshly fallen snow, melting it from the surface.
In short, it was certain that this kid's soul had been pawned and brainwashed by a wicked black magician.
"I'd wondered if it could be true, but it really was a black magician."
"This is black magic? It, um, it's different from what I imagined."
"No, it's probably exactly what you imagined. Imagine yourself ending up like this."
"Uh, now that you mention it, it's a bit scary..."
There was no reason to keep the kid under the black magician's influence. I channeled a bit of mana into my fingertip and flicked the kid's forehead.
With a crisp snap, the feeble aura of the black magician was torn away from the kid's soul without a trace.
"Ow!"
"Come to your senses?"
"Ah, the money! I have to take the money... Huh, why did I have to take it? Where is this..."
When I set the kid down on the ground, now lucid, they fumbled at the ground and looked around in confusion, unable to grasp the situation.
"I have a few questions."
"Eek!!"
When I spoke, the kid flinched, hunching up like a timid cat and looking at me warily.
I waggled my fingers and used telekinesis to pull out one of the glonds I'd bought earlier from my backpack, holding it out. Nothing beats something sweet for dispelling a child's wariness.
The kid caught the floating glond with small hands, mouth half-open, moving their head up and down, then looked at me and spoke carefully.
"Uh, big sister... You're a magician...?"
"Yes, that's right."
The kid hesitated for a moment, swallowed, and opened their mouth again.
"Strong...?"
"I'm strong."
At least stronger than anyone else in this city, that is.
The kid fidgeted with their hands again, as if unable to get the words out. Then, tears began welling up in their eyes little by little.
"See... The thing is..."
Now sniffling with a face full of tears, the kid spoke slowly, one word at a time.
"Help, us... My sisters, and brothers... And my friend..."
"Yes, we came to catch that bad person."
"Really?"
"Yes."
I bowed my head and wiped away the tears trickling from the kid's eyes with my finger. Though tears were still flowing, they calmed down surprisingly quickly.
Just then, a noisy sound came from the side. A bearded beggar who had been watching us for a while had risen from his spot and started approaching.
He held a rusty knife, making his intention to threaten us perfectly clear. As the beggars beside him and behind us began to shift slightly, the kid flinched and shrank back in fear.
"Hey, quit your yapping! If you're done talking, leave that coin purse you took out earlier and get lost, or else you'll—urk!"
As the beggar took three steps forward, Cassian, who had accelerated instantly by flooding his body with mana, drove an elbow into the beggar's jaw.
The beggar dropped the knife he was holding straight to the ground and collapsed on the spot, along with four dislodged teeth. The beggars watching from the sidelines sat back down.
"Pathetic."
"Well done. See that?"
"...Yes."
The kid's eyes widened in surprise, and they slowly nodded.
"So, where do we need to go?"
The kid wiped away tears with an arm and pointed toward the coast, taking the lead.
"This way..."
◇
Following the kid, we arrived at what seemed to be an abandoned warehouse district. The buildings were so badly collapsed that it didn't look like people lived there, but there was clearly a human presence.
Hiding slightly and observing, I saw several children and a few adults gathered in a wide clearing. The children handed over the money they held, and those who brought too little were brutally beaten by the adults.
The commonality was that, whether children or adults, their eyes were unfocused. Looking at their souls, they were all victims bearing traces of black magic.
"Over there, if we didn't bring money, they hit us. And if we kept not bringing it, over there..."
Turning my gaze to where the kid pointed, there was a fairly large warehouse. The entrance was closed so I couldn't see inside, but it was clear that children were locked up in there.
This seemed to be the reason Kunrote had said children were disappearing.
Even if they were scoundrels beating children, they were still innocent human victims, so I couldn't attack them. I waited a bit longer until the people dispersed.
Since I couldn't cause a commotion, I decided to lie in ambush inside a nearby overgrown thicket, blocking sound with magic.
Thinking the kid might get bored, I took out another glond and handed it over. Watching the hypnotized people come and go, dusk had fallen before I knew it.
Though we had arrived when the sun was already low, we had waited quite a long time to no avail. The moment I considered withdrawing before it got darker and coming back tomorrow...
From a small warehouse tucked in the farthest corner, a man with a black robe draped over his shoulders came out, looked around, then firmly closed the door and went back inside.
Bingo.
"Cassian, keep an eye on this one."
"You're going alone, Master?"
"I'll be right back."
"Hurry back. I hate the dark."
I smiled briefly and stepped out of the thicket.
But immediately after, my sleeve was tugged sharply. I turned around to see the kid looking at me with anxious eyes.
"Big sister..."
When I gently patted the kid's head, only then did they let go of my sleeve.
I walked to the warehouse the man had entered earlier and placed my palm against the wooden door.
Well then.
Lord, though the hour is late, a few more are on their way up.